Missing Scene: St Bart's Locker Room
by mryddinwilt
Summary: Missing Scene from The Empty Hearse. A fun one-shot where Molly and Sherlock reunite in the locker room, fluff ensues. Happy Valentine's Day!


**Happy (early) Valentines! This is just a fun fluffy one-shot that I wrote but didn't use for another story. Little plot, lots of Sherlolly**

***For the purposes of this story Tom does not exist. =)**

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It was early afternoon but Molly Hooper was exhausted. She was finishing a night shift that was as boring as it was long. These days most of her shifts were boring. There was still murder and mayhem in London but since Sherlock Holmes "died" less of it came through her morgue. Until Sherlock left she never considered that a large portion of her work was being generated by him. But after a two year absence Molly was positive that Sherlock had pulled strings to make sure certain bodies and evidence ended up in her lap. Molly knew this was more for Sherlock's benefit than for hers but that didn't stop her from missing the more interesting cases she used to work on. She yawned as the elevator doors dinged and she walked out towards the locker room.

Her mind intent on thoughts of sleep and food she walked to her locker. It was only when she opened it that she caught sight of the tall, dark figure behind her. Her breath caught and her body jumped.

In her mind she called his name but out loud she said nothing. She turned around and was greeted by a Cheshire Cat grin. She smiled back in return. Her first instinct was to hug him but there was a bench and what seemed like a chasm of space between them. Despite helping to fake his death two years ago Molly didn't feel entirely comfortable initiating physical contact. It didn't help that the all too familiar swooping sensation in her stomach had started the moment she saw his face. In his long absence Molly thought that she had gotten over her feelings for Sherlock Holmes. It only took two seconds to prove that she hadn't. Her mind buzzed with thoughts and questions. None of which seemed appropriate for the moment. She wished that he would speak but he seemed content to grin and look at her. Molly wondered what deductions he was making.

"You look well, Molly." he spoke. His voice even deeper and richer than she remembered. Molly felt a surge of relief that she had passed his inspection.

"I am well. And how are you?" the words felt inane and wooden but Molly could think of nothing more appropriate.

"Not dead." he deadpanned. Molly giggled, she loved his morbid sense of humor, it matched so well with her own.

"Yes, well that's a relief isn't it?" she tries to play the comment off with a smile but deep down she is relieved that Sherlock's mission to dismantle Moriarty's network had not killed him, yet.

"In London long?" she asks.

"Indefinitely it would seem." he replies but looks a bit uncomfortable.

"Oh! So you are back for good then?" she asks with excitement. This makes him smile.

"As I said." he replies with a hint of what Molly thinks is boredom. She recalls that Sherlock hates emotional or tedious conversations. So she restrains her exuberance and replies flatly.

"Well. That's good."

Sherlock only nods and they stare at each other for a long moment.

Then Molly turns back to her locker. Quickly removing her lab coat and other paraphernalia before grabbing her bag and coat. Sherlock remains quiet and Molly can't help but feel the incredible awkwardness of the situation. She had forgotten how complicated even the most simple social interactions were with Sherlock. Everything wrapped in layers of meaning and all the time her body going haywire and keeping her mind from forming coherent sentences. She knows she should say something else but can't decide what. Before shutting the locker she takes a deep breath, steeling herself. She turns with the intention of giving Sherlock a proper welcome hug and telling him how much she has missed him. But the look of frustration and anger on his face stops her. She doesn't know what to say and feels escape is her best option.

"Well I am heading home." Sherlock doesn't reply, doesn't seem to notice Molly at all. She realizes he might be in his mind palace or just in deep thought. So she walks around the bench and past Sherlock to the door. Just before leaving she turns and looks at the ghost turned statue.

"Uh.. Bye." The words limp lamely from her mouth. She turns and waits but hears nothing. So she opens the door. Just then she hears the strangled phrase.

"Bloody hell"

She turns around in time to see Sherlock hurtling towards her. His eyes have a wild, dark look she doesn't recognize. Before she can process another thought his body crashes into hers pinning her against the door while his mouth simultaneously claims hers. His lips crush down, mashing painfully into her teeth. She gasps from surprise and pain. Sherlock takes the opportunity to dart his tongue inside her mouth. This was not how she wanted to kiss Sherlock. This was something out of her nightmare. She pushes at him but her small frame is no match for his and he barely moves. Then Molly pulls her hand back and slaps him, hard.

He takes a step back, his hand flying to his cheek while the sound of the slap reverberates in the empty locker room. He doesn't say anything, just stares at Molly, his long, graceful lashes moving rapidly as he attempts to process information.

Molly stares back, her anger building to a towering inferno.

"What, in God's name, was that?" She demands. Her voice not coming out nearly as loud or intimidating as she wanted but still clearly upset.

"A kiss." He responds in a neutral voice. His eyes still blinking a rapid staccato, his cheeks flushed.

"That was more like an attack than a kiss." Molly replies, her eyes narrowing.

Sherlock frowns. "I thought…I mean you…" he brakes off and takes several rapid paces across the room. His hand rubbing at his hair as he mutters to himself. As she watches him struggle to sort his thoughts, Molly realizes that she didn't want an apology or an explanation. Both would be incredibly uncomfortable for both of them and would not change anything. Besides Sherlock is obviously in great distress, he needs her help. Needs it so much he has come out of hiding and attempted a kiss in a bid for her assistance.

Suddenly Sherlock stopsd his pacing and strides back to her. "Molly, I…" She raises her hand and, surprisingly, he stops talking.

"It's fine. Really. Forget about it." she waves her hand for emphasis. "Just tell me what you need?"

"What I need is you." He responds, his voice impossibly deep and edged with anxiety. Molly's mouth quirks at the ironic echoing of their conversation from two years ago. But this time Molly keeps her imagination in check and her heart securely guarded.

"Ok. What do you need me to do? she asks in a businesslike tone.

"Do?" Sherlock seems confused.

"Yes. What covert task was so important you had to surprise me in a locker room after two years of silence? What do you want from me?" Sherlock doesn't have a ready answer. He gives his head a slight shake and then begins to speak rapidly

"Ms. Hooper, two years ago I came to you a ruined and hunted man. I begged for and received your assistance. Because of you I was able to protect my friends from Moriarty and manufacture my own death. This was necessary to protect those closest to me while I attempted to dismantle Moriarty's network. It was also necessary while I worked towards this goal that I not contact you or anyone else from my life. Secrecy was the highest priority to protect my case and to protect you. I have always prided myself on my lack of sentiment. However these long years have shown me that I am not devoid of sentiment. I missed my flat , my violin, and the frantic London streets. I missed the meddling motherliness of Mrs. Hudson. I missed Lestrade, my cases, and persecuting Anderson. I missed John, a man I have only known a short time but who now seems very integral to my process. I even occasionally missed my infuriating brother."

"I'm sure it was very hard for you." Molly says. At her words Sherlock's eyes seek hers briefly before he continues on in his rapid fire speech.

"All those feelings were mere annoyances compared to the torture of thinking of you. Not a day, not a single day, passed that I didn't find myself wanting to see you, to talk with you and observe you. I was certain that my preoccupation with you was born of the puzzle you presented."

"Puzzle?" Molly asks unsure if she is hearing any of his words correctly.

"Yes. Puzzle. Here was little Molly Hooper. Someone I had always trusted and respected but also taken for granted, manipulated when it suited me, and assumed was too timid to ever confront me or correct my rudeness. But then that day, during the search for the children and my whole world crashing down on me, you let me see you. The real you, not the face you had been showing me for years. This Molly Hooper saw me so clearly, she saw through me and into me and I was shocked. I didn't know what to think nor did I have the time. So I focused on the case and I figured out Moriarty's plan but too late to stop it. I had to take drastic action." Sherlock paused his frantic movements and looked Molly in the eye before continuing.

"Intuitively I turned to you. I could have turned to my powerful and well placed brother but instead I inexplicably turned to you. I confessed to you and all you cared about was helping me. You didn't seem worried or scared, just focused and determined. You did everything I asked and never asked for anything in return. I could not reconcile my long held assessment of you with the person of those fateful days. It was torture. I worked on the puzzle of you until about two months ago when I developed a hypothesis. But in order to prove it I would need to see you to collect more data. Of course, as I said, I could not contact you until my task was complete. Yesterday evening, in Serbia, I finished my mission. Tomorrow Sherlock Holmes will be alive once again. Thus to answer your question, I do not want you to do anything."

Molly's head spun. Her efforts of the last two years to overcome her infatuation with Sherlock upended by new revelations. She struggled to put it all together. Sherlock had said many things but none of them were a declaration of love or any real emotion beyond frustration at the puzzle she presented. She reigns in her emotions and silently wills her heart to stop beating so rapidly.

"I missed you too Sherlock." she replies as steadily as possible. He raises his eyebrows, causing his forehead to crinkle. This look of surprise, coupled with his speech give Molly the courage to close the space between them. She moves rapidly and doesn't dare look up at his face. Instead she stares at the buttons of his dress shirt and she moves closer.

She wraps her arms around him, buries her face into those buttons and breathes him in. She feels his arms wrap around her and they stay there just holding each other and breathing. Sherlock seems in no hurry to end the embrace and this makes Molly bold.

She pulls away slightly so she can tilt her head up. Sherlock looks down at her, his eyes glittering in the low light. She smiles tentatively.

"I am glad you are back." she says.

Then she stands up on her toes to place a soft kiss on his cheek. But in the millisecond before her lips land, Sherlock moves his head and her lips meet gently with his. She feels an almost electric shock at the contact and she pulls away slightly. Sherlock's hands are suddenly cradling her head, drawing her back to his lips. They kiss tentatively; each not wanting to rush the other. Molly's hands tangle in his black curls and she lets out a hum of pleasure at finally being able to confirm her suspicion that his hair is magnificently soft. Sherlocks kiss suddenly becomes more urgent. Molly responds by gliding her tongue along his bottom lip. Sherlock lets out an animal sound and plunges his tongue deep inside. They stumble back and Molly's back is, once again, pinned against the door.

This is not the gentle kiss of a friend or new lover this is a kiss of hunger and long dormant desire. Their lips meet again and Molly wonders how she has gone so long without kissing this man. He tastes like ginger or cinnamon, Molly can't identify it exactly but it stings just a little. The kiss deepens, both of their breathing becomes hitched as they struggle to gulp in air while maintaining contact. Molly is surprised to feel Sherlock's hands on her hips pulling her closer, molding their bodies together. She feels a ball of warmth growing down deep and she moans, her hips thrusting slightly. Sherlock groans and breaks off the kiss, but keeps his face centimeters away. His hot, tangy breath sending shivers all over her body. He gulps for air, like a drowning man. Whispering "I missed you too." before placing another, feather soft kiss on her swollen lips.

Molly smiled, adrenaline making her giddy.

"Now that Sherlock, is a kiss." They lean their foreheads together as they both chuckle. Sherlocks hands, fast around her waist, Molly's circling his neck.

"You don't need to collect any more data. I am sure that your clever mind has deduced that I did all those things because of my deep emotional attachment to you." Molly said gently.

"Actually, my hypothesis was that I am emotionally attached to you. Something I was positive seeing you and physical contact would confirm or deny. Your feelings for me were never in question." He raised his eyebrows and quirked his mouth. Molly laughed at his mock arrogance.

"Cheeky aren't we? So is the experiment over? Have you proven your theory?" She asks with a smile. He smiles back.

"Actually I think I will need to collect much more data. It might take years." He replies. Then his lips descend once more to her mouth.

Molly decides she will let him collect all the data he wants.

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**That is what happened when the camera's cut away. I swear! **

**Also did anyone else notice that Sherlock didn't have a cut lip when he visited Molly? He has one when we he sees Lestrade and when he sees Mrs. Hudson (well it's kind of in shadow but its there). Plus he visits her in the middle of the day and the rest at night. CLEARLY he visited her before getting punched by John, making Molly the first visit. Right? **

**Review if convenient.**

**IF inconvenient review anyway! =)**


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